Mark and I went out on our third date on Friday night. At least, I think it was a date. Regardless, we spent time with each other for the third time since he made that first clear move by asking me for my phone number. So for all intents and purposes, it was a date. Although I think it was also one of those “tests” guys administer, like the “See if My Boys Like Her” test.

We spent the evening bar-hopping with the two men Mark has been friends with since childhood, and then we went for a drunken, late-night swim in one of said childhood friends’ pool. I’m pretty sure everything went well. I mean I was “one of the boys” in high school, I know how they think, it’s not hard to fit in with them. Add to that the fact that Mark’s friends’ are pretty cool guys, and I’m pretty sure everything went well.

So what I am obsessing over? Why, I’m so glad you asked.

At the end of the night Mark and I went back to his house, and we did what most inebriated, physically compatible people do. Still no home-runs, but definitely a solid triple.

Well actually, only one of us got to third base…the other one of us has only made it to first.

One of us was pleasured orally, for a long time.

After one of us came from said pleasure, one of us tried to return the favor, but was politely rebuffed with an, “I like to take things slow, it’s a trust issue. I just want to hold you right now.”

Guess who got politely rebuffed, folks?

Yes, that’s right, it was me, I was the one…I’ll give you a second to digest that.

Now do you see what I’m obsessing over? Never in my life have I had a man turn down a blow job…at least not without a hand job to stand in it’s place. Mark wanted NOTHING. He REALLY DID just hold me and gently kiss my face until we fell asleep.

So ever since Friday night, I’ve been obsessing over that incident. Did I do something wrong? Why didn’t he want me to touch him? He was completely naked, just like me, and the lights were out (which is another thing – I couldn’t see a mother fucking thing. I usually leave the lights on, but he turned every single damn one of them off), so what possible insecurity could there be left?

He can’t POSSIBLY be concerned about penis size, does he REALLY think I’m expecting Magic Johnson?

But if he’s not insecure, what is it? He certainly isn’t conservative…holy shit, or is he? He told me he was incredibly “Straight Edge” in high school – but we’ve never discussed anything like religion or faith. He swears, and he drinks, so how overtly moral can he be?

I can’t help but think, though, that I’ve done something wrong. We went out on Friday night, and I haven’t heard from him since. That fact in itself doesn’t necessarily alarm me, it was Father’s Day weekend, I do know he had plans to go to the shore. But there is a tiny part of me that is slightly concerned I’ve scared him off, or intimidated him in some way. He seemed just fine Saturday morning, but still…